


Askew

by pringlesaremydivision



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-18
Updated: 2003-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4120755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlesaremydivision/pseuds/pringlesaremydivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merry has hopes for an evening in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Askew

_It is with a cheery smile on his face that Meriadoc Brandybuck putters around the house, cleaning and dusting. Usually he hates such menial tasks as these, but he has an important night to look forward to, and he wants the house to look its best.  
  
Lifting up a teapot and carefully swiping the rag underneath it, he thinks about what will happen when Pippin gets home. Or, at least, what he hopes will happen._  
  
Pippin will come bursting through the door, breathless as always, because - he has told Merry this more than once - if he doesn't hurry, things may happen without his knowledge. Pippin likes to be on top of things, all the time.  
  
 _Merry grins at the implications of that._  
  
When he gets into the kitchen - always the first place he stops - he will smell the mouthwatering aroma of the mushrooms Merry has prepared and the freshly-baked bread that Merry has slaved over all day. He'll walk out of the kitchen, looking for Merry, most likely whistling snippets of many different songs - because that is how Pippin is, whirlwind and all over the place at once, and Merry would have it no other way.  
  
Pippin will find Merry in the - sparkling-clean - front room, lounging in his favorite chair. He'll make a comment about supper, most likely inquiring as to when it will be ready, before sitting in  _his_  favorite chair - Merry's lap. There, he'll tell Merry about his day, about the goings-on at Bag End, and how Frodo and Sam are doing, never noticing the gleam in Merry's eyes, or the way they flit all over his body hungrily.  
  
 _Merry moves into the kitchen and checks that the bread is rising as it should be before he moves into his bedroom, stripping the bed of its sheets and fitting new ones on. Hopefully, he won't sleep alone tonight._  
  
Pippin will stop in mid-sentence and jump suddenly off Merry's lap, heading to the kitchen with an expression on his face much like the one Merry sports when looking at him. Pippin, of course, won't catch the connection.  
  
Merry will follow closely behind, chiding Pippin for being so impatient. Telling him to sit down, Merry will place the food on the table - mushrooms; bread; thick, hot vegetable soup; and several slices of cold meat - and pour them both a mug of ale. They'll eat silently for several minutes before Pippin will speak up, asking between bites what Merry has done all day.  
  
Merry will smile mischeviously and say that he has been preparing for something very important. Pippin will ask what it is, but Merry will tell him that he'll find out after supper. Pippin will sigh impatiently, but he won't eat any quicker. Very few things come between a Hobbit and the slow enjoyment of his meal; even a Hobbit as inquisitive as Pippin.  
  
When at last the meal has finished, and the plates have been cleared from the table, Merry and Pippin will retire to the front room and, after lighting a fire in the fireplace, they will sit comfortably together on the sofa, talking quietly about anything and everything that comes to mind.  
  
 _Merry gulps. He hopes desperately that everything will go according to plan._  
  
When there is a lull in the conversation, Merry will clear his throat and nudge Pippin's head from his spot on Merry's shoulder. Merry will pull on a loose string of his waistcoat for several seconds before meeting Pippin's expectant gaze.  
  
Looking deeply into Pippin's brilliant eyes - greener than grass in the sweetest meadow in summer - he will begin to whisper softly; words of love, words of wanting; words that he has wanted to speak for so long but has only just gathered up the courage to do so. He will tell Pippin, pulling him closer, running his hands through his cinnamon curls, that he has been in love with him, desperately in love, for a very long time; almost longer than he can remember. Touching their noses together, Merry will list everything he loves about Pippin - his fervor for life; the way his eyes sparkle when he is excited; the sweet curve of his lower lip; the way he snuggles up oh so very closely to Merry when he is tired. Merry will list these and a thousand more, frightened of going on but even more frightened of stopping.  
  
Merry will have closed his eyes by then, and when he opens them, he will find Pippin looking back at him exactly as he always has - with love, and tenderness, and warmth, and everything else that embodies Pippin. But there will be that tell-tale sparkle in his eyes that will give Merry the courage to lean his head down and press his lips gently to Pippin's own.  
  
Pippin will sigh softly, scooting so close to Merry that he is nearly in his lap, and he will tangle his hands in Merry's hair, letting his tongue dance across Merry's lower lip before opening his mouth and granting Merry's tongue entry.  
  
 _Heat suffuses Merry's face as he stirs the soup once more before heading into the front room and settling into his chair._  
  
They will stay in this position for what seems like hours, now kissing harder, now kissing softer, finding out just what will make the other gasp softly or sigh happily, before Merry will grow impatient. He will push Pippin gently off of him, loathe to break the kiss, and, with the heat in his eyes matched by that in Pippin's, he will take Pippin's hand and lead him to the bedroom. Reclining on the bed, he will motion Pippin towards him. Crawling slowly, almost predatorily, Pippin will inch his way forward, until, when nearly on top of Merry, he will -   
  
 _Merry's thoughts are interrupted when he hears the crash of the front door. He hears the patter of rushing feet, an exclamation of excitement - "Mushrooms!", the whistled tune of a beloved drinking song changing quickly into one that Merry doesn't recognize; and then Pippin is there, in front of him, flushed and smiling, and Merry finds that his careful planning of the evening is ruined, because he certainly will not be able to wait until after dinner. The sweetness, the tender words - all will have to wait until later._  
  
Pulling Pippin down onto his lap, he claims Pippin's lips with his own, softly but forcefully, and he finds that nothing in all his fantasies compares with the real thing. Pippin tastes like spring rain and peaches and happiness and everything Merry has imagined, but ten times more and ten times better.  
  
And when they break apart, Pippin leans his forehead on Merry's, grins, and says, as if nothing has changed, but with that sweet sparkle in his eyes, "When will supper be ready?"  
  
Merry just laughs, grateful that his worrying was for nothing, and thinks that though things are progressing slightly out of order, everything is still going spectacularly according to plan.


End file.
